


The Perfect Cup of Tea

by tsheps



Series: If- [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsheps/pseuds/tsheps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liara thought she would never really get over Kennedy Shepard.  Even though she had become a dear friend, Liara still harbored feelings.  The return Ashley Williams and the renewal of her relationship with Shepard just made it harder.</p>
<p>When she starts taking note of the new communications specialist, however, things start looking up for a lonely Shadow Broker.</p>
<p>A side story from my work 'If-'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Cup of Tea

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of made Liara a sad character in Sunrise. Adorable, doe-eyed, unrequited love and all that. But I really wanted as many of the crew as possible to get a happy ending in this world, and I gave Sam a tough run of it in some of my other fics. It just felt right to let those two crazy kids fall in love. This is all fluff, but there will be some smut with these two to come. After all, the Citadel party is coming soon...

The rigid military discipline was to blame. Shepard insisted that all crew members follow the schedule she made for them, and part of that schedule was a coffee break in early afternoon.  She insisted that they all needed down time to calm nerves and maintain a sense of normalcy.  Liara had managed to skip the break one day.  She was entrenched in her office, scattering her attention between a dozen different terminals in the seamless way she had on her own ship.  

 

Her second day on the Normandy, Shepard had arrived and frog marched her into the mess, silently placing her in a chair and depositing a steaming mug of coffee in front of her.  Shepard was a force of nature, her will could not be subverted.  She could be ignored as easily as a hurricane.  

 

Liara had been aboard for a week when she truly noticed Samantha Traynor. The communications specialist had been a presence aboard ship already, but her preoccupation with the Reapers had allowed her to give Traynor scant notice.  She seemed to be ubiquitous, however. Liara saw her everywhere she went.  She was in the war room and in the shuttle bay, and had even arrived in Shepard's cabin that first day.  Perhaps it was the differences between the woman and the rest of the crew that made her so noticeable.  In a world full of muscles and hard angles, Traynor was all curves and soft edges. Her voice had a song like quality that was at odds with barked orders and clipped sentences.

 

Traynor arrived as early as she could to the mess at break time and immediately put a kettle on the stove. Very few crew members were allowed to touch the stove, but Traynor had sweet talked the sergeant of the mess not long after the start of the tour. After starting the water to boil, she very neatly set out several items on the counter.  Liara watched with unabashed fascination, holding her coffee cup in both hands, letting it warm her.  Traynor set out a ceramic tea pot that was discolored and scratched, and generally looked as though it had travelled as many miles as Liara had in its lifetime.  Then an equally worn tea cup and saucer, a small spoon, and a small jug which she half filled with milk. 

 

She always curled her lip at the rehydrated milk that she pulled from the refrigerated stores.  It seemed to Liara that the look of disgust was subconscious, as she made the same face every day, but still used the milk.  On Thessia, where the culinary traditions were far different from a human battleship, Liara had never tried drinking cow's milk.  The only version of milk that she had ever tried was the rehydrated powered milk that the Normandy served.  While she had no great love for the beverage, she had never had the real thing.  Shepard told her that the difference was staggering, but there was little chance she would ever try the fresh version.

Liara's favorite part of the proceedings occurred next, when Traynor retrieved from her locker a dented, scratched, battered tin box.  If the tea pot looked well worn, this box looked as though it had survived Armageddon.  Traynor held the box with such care and reverence.  That was what caught Liara's eye and made her pay attention to the procedure the first time.  She handled the tin box the way that Liara had handled the prothean artifacts she had unearthed.  It made Liara's heart ache for those simple days at dig sites all over the galaxy.  When cleaning and restoring the discarded traces of the greatest society the universe had ever known had been her reason for living.  The box was obviously precious to Traynor, and Liara wondered how it came to be that this item was on board the Normandy when she had not even had a toothbrush. 

The kettle would then whistle and Traynor would pour a small amount into the tea pot, putting the kettle back on to whistle while she swirled the steaming water inside the pot.  Then she would carefully pour the water out, add a scoop of tea leaves from the precious box, and fill the pot with boiling water.  She would drape a towel over the pot and let it sit.  She generally spent this time lovingly closing the tin box and secreting it back into her locker.  Then she would chat with the sergeant of the mess, her tinkling laugh swallowed by the chatter around Liara, so she saw was the movement, but did not hear the sound.  Sometimes, if he was busy, she would fiddle with her spoon, or maybe just stare into space.  Once she made eye contact with Liara, who smiled shyly and looked away. 

After five minutes exactly, which she never timed, she just seemed to know, she would use the spoon to stir the pot.  Then she would pour some milk into her tea cup, and follow it with tea.  She would stir this with the little spoon, and then, inexplicably, pour out the remainder of the pot and rinse it and spoon.  She would then pick up her tea cup and take it to a seat to drink. 

On this day, after Liara had watched her daily for over a week, the only seat free in the mess was right in front of her.  Traynor looked around, spied the seat, smiled at Liara and made her way over.  The asari had not exactly engineered the meeting.  She had merely made sure the seat in front of her remained free by looking off anyone that had shown any interest in sitting there.  She had picked up some habits as the Shadow Broker, and even before on Ilium, that made it somewhat easier to get what she wanted.  She was lucky that she hadn't had to threaten to flay anyone with her mind to keep the seat clear.  She wouldn't have actually gone through with the threat, but it did seem to unsettle Shepard when she threatened.

"Mind if I join you, Dr. T'soni?"

"By all means, Specialist Traynor.  But I think you should start calling me Liara. We are, after all, sharing close quarters and a battle against time to save all organic life. Perhaps a little informality is in order."

Traynor set down her cup gently and sat, "I will. Thank you Liara.  Please call me Sam."

Liara smiled and sipped her coffee.  Samantha picked up her cup and sipped, looking around the room nervously.  She had never had a conversation with Liara, and was somewhat intimidated. Liara, for her part, may have lost a bit of her shyness since first coming aboard the Normandy, but she was still the meek archaeologist at heart.  She had spent several afternoons planning this conversation, but she was hesitant to begin.  She gripped her coffee cup hard to keep her hands from shaking, "I've noticed that you... well, you seem to take your tea quite seriously."

Samantha giggled and blushed.  Liara's heart skipped a beat at the color in her cheeks, and she blushed herself at the realization that she may have a bit of a crush on Samantha.  Sam looked at her, eyes shining with laughter as she spoke, "Yes, well.  I do, I suppose.  I come by it honestly, though."

"How so?"

"Well, I'm British."

Samantha seemed to think that explained everything, but Liara was at a loss, "Forgive me, I don't know as much about humans as I probably should.  I don't really know what that means."

"Oh!  I'm sorry, how stupid of me!  Well, let's see, how to explain?  My parents were both born in London, England.  And I went to Uni at Oxford.  That's in England, too.  Well, the English have a tradition of afternoon tea.  It is possibly the most important cultural tradition for the country."

Samantha's eyes became almost misty with nostalgia.  She smiled and sipped her tea, and Liara waited for her to continue.  In truth, she knew something of the custom, but had never seen such devotion to the making of a cup of tea.

"My parents were always very insistent on having afternoon tea every day.  I think they wanted their kids to still _feel_ British, even though we grew up in a colony off Earth."

"And why is it so important to your people?"

Samantha became more animated, gesturing with her hands and leaning forward as she explained, "Well, long before we left Earth, the British were colonizers.  In the 18th century on Earth, all of the powerful countries were racing to settle in lands that were newly discovered or rich in resources.  The British were particularly good at colonizing, and the Empire spread all over the planet.  It was said that 'the sun never sets on the British Empire'.  The lands that these people settled were so incredibly different from where they came from.  England is rather cold and rainy, you see, and they settled in tropical rainforests and deserts and snow covered mountains.  As they settled so far from home, the tradition of afternoon tea became a way to hold on something of their own society and still feel British."

"They were homesick."

"Yes!  Exactly!  It was something they took with them so they could always remember who they were and where they came from.  I suppose... I suppose that's exactly what my parents did.  And what I'm doing."

Samantha stared thoughtfully into her tea, and Liara said, "Sounds nice.  To have something to cling to. Especially now."

"Yes.  Especially now.  With London in flames and colonies being wiped out.  This may be all I have left of home after the Reapers."

Liara wanted to reach out and take Traynor's hand, to squeeze it and tell her everything would be okay.  It was what Shepard would do.  It was what she should do.  But she just couldn't do it.  It was too bold.  Too daring.  Even for her new life.

Samantha sniffed and shook her head, looking back into Liara's eyes with determination.  Liara caught her breath, and tried to cover it by drinking coffee.  She drank it too fast and choked.  She coughed and blushed, and Samantha said, "Well, I suppose I should get back upstairs.  Break's over!"

She stood quickly and hurried to the sink to rinse her cup.  Liara coughed some more and cursed herself for her indecision.

 

*****

 

Liara found it hard to concentrate on all of the dozens of data feeds in front of her that afternoon.  Glyph twice had to draw her attention to flash bulletins from active agents.  She went to bed early and lay awake for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling and trying to bully her brain into shutting down.  Finally, she threw the covers off and went to her terminal.  It seemed her mind would not be satisfied with the bits of information Samantha had given her.  She needed to know more.  She spent several hours combing historical libraries on the extranet.  Learning about Jamestown, Bermuda, The Sepoy Mutiny, the convict settlements in Australia, and the spice trade.  She found herself romanced by the idea of this nation of hearty men who conquered so much of their planet with such limited technology, but simultaneously aghast at the fact that it was all financed through slavery and the oppression of natives.  She found herself unsettled by the parallels to the treatment of the krogan.  She was, however, able to satisfy her mind enough to sleep for a few hours.

The following afternoon, she nearly sprinted to the counter to pour her coffee, hoping to be at the counter when Samantha arrived.  Her back was to the mess, making a meal over choosing one of the identical mugs, when she heard a cheery voice behind her, "Good afternoon, Dr... I mean, Liara.  Got here early today!"

Liara grabbed a mug at random and turned with a smile, "Hello, Sam!  Yes, I had some important... well, best if I not say."  Being the Shadow Broker made prevarication so much easier.

Samantha did not respond, just nodded as she set out her pot and cup, her hands busy with familiar movements.  Liara noticed that she had slim, delicate fingers and that they moved with the grace of a pianist.  She found herself intently watching the way those fingers danced from spot to spot, barely touching down before fluttering away again. She shifted her focus to the pot and cup and decided to delve deeper into the process of making the tea, "So, if I may ask, is there some significance to the process of making your tea?  It seems to be a rather involved process.  You are so... precise about it."

Samantha continued her work as she answered, "I hadn't thought... I suppose there is, but mostly I'm a creature of habit.  I thrive on routine.  I just make the tea the way my mother did… does."

She excused herself to get her tin, and Liara poured her coffee and waited for her return.  When Samantha came back, the kettle was whistling and she swirled her hot water in the pot as usual.  Liara said, "That, for instance.  I've noticed you always put a little water in the pot before adding the tea leaves, then you pour it out.  Why is that?"

"Oh, I'm warming the pot.  You see, it is absolutely essential that the water be as hot as possible when you add it to the leaves, or the tea won't brew properly.  You put some boiling water in the pot and swirl it around, like this, to warm the pot up some.  That way, when you add the boiling water to brew, the water won't be cooled any by the cold ceramic."

Liara's look was skeptical.  She supposed she had assigned some ceremonial significance to the action, and was disappointed by the mundane science of it.  The dangers of being an anthropologist, "But surely the water temperature cannot be lowered significantly?"

Samantha stopped and looked at Liara, face set, "Every degree is significant.  Trust me.  One cannot make the perfect cup of tea in a cold pot."

 

*****

 

It took a surprisingly short time for this to become a routine between the two.  Liara would spend her break time with Samantha, talking more than she had to anyone other than Shepard.  Samantha told her about how one had to add the milk to the cup before the tea to keep from scalding the milk.  She lamented the difficulty of finding good tea leaves for sale anywhere but Earth, hence the battered tin that she protected like gold.  Liara had even spent an hour researching tea bags just so that she could hear Samantha rant about how they were an 'abomination'.  
  
Liara found herself more and more captivated by the young communications specialist.  She knew it was true long before researching the difference between 'British' and 'English' just for the pure joy she felt as Samantha lectured passionately on the subject. That had clinched it. She was enthralled by the woman and her caramel skin and the squint of determination she got in her eyes at the most unexpected moments. She would get Sam talking and simply watch. Her face was alive with feeling, and it was like watching the light sparkle on the water in the fountain outside her window back home at her estate on Thessia.  

As the war efforts ramped up, Liara had less free time, and she would arrive later and later to break time.  Soon, the sound of Samantha's kettle whistling was the only thing that reminded her to take her break, and she would rush out of her office to join her for a 'cuppa' as Samantha adorably called it.  
  
She couldn't remember when she started drinking a cup of Sam's tea with her instead of the mediocre coffee that brewed nonstop on the Normandy.  It just happened one day, and became the most natural thing in the world.  Soon she found that she had stopped moping about her one-sided love for Shepard. Then there was the day that Ashley and Shepard teased each other about their past dates in the war room, and Liara forgot to be morose about it.  She watched Sam smile indulgently at the pair and felt a much different longing than she was used to in those moments. Liara could see where her heart was taking her, but she seemed to always have a reason to keep watching Samantha from afar instead of telling her how she felt.

Not long after leaving Rannoch, the Normandy picked up a new passenger in the form of a living prothean.  The implications had intrigued Liara on Eden Prime, and the reality of the knowledge he had consumed most of Liara's days.  Samantha had been equally busy, chasing down fragments of information on Cerberus. Their meetings for tea and flirting became more and more infrequent.  Liara had decided that her love life was doomed to be a series of missed chances and unrequited attractions.

 

******  
  


She knew that she had been in her cabin for quite some time, perhaps even more than a day, but her data feeds were churning out important news and valuable leads.  Liara found little motivation to ignore her duties, especially with the message from Councilor Tevos calling them back to the Citadel.  Liara had some vague foreboding about that, but chose not to dwell.  Her eyes flicked to a new screen, and felt suddenly very lonely.  Her thoughts turned to Sam and the curve of her lip when she smiled.  
  
Liara sat back and let the mental images of Traynor wash over her.  She allowed herself to watch Samantha move, listen to her laugh, scrutinizing her every feature through the frosted window of her memory.  She swam in the memories, just the thought of her making Liara feel giddy.  She sat up, determined to go find the specialist, perhaps find some excuse to visit Joker. Anything to walk through the CIC and catch a glimpse. As though the thoughts had pulled Samantha closer, at that very moment Liara heard the whistle of her tea kettle.  Liara's smile was almost painful on her cheeks.  
  
She had expected to see the mess hall bursting with life as usual at break or meal times, but it deserted and dark, lit only by the low glow of floor lights.  She wrinkled her brow and turned to Sam, who was leaning against the food prep counter, arms crossed, "Where is everyone?"  
  
"Asleep mostly.  It's the middle of the night."  
  
Liara blushed, realizing that she had not paid much attention to day or night.  The same had happened on Hagalaz, "Oh! I guess I haven't been out of my office much."  
  
Sam only smiled in response.  Liara noticed that the usual array was missing from the counter. No tea pot, no cup and saucer, none of it.  Sam turned to turn off the stove and stop the kettle from whistling, and Liara moved to the counter.  
  
She waited while Samtha took the kettle off the heat and returned to the counter. Sam's smile had a touch of embarrassment about it, but her shoulders were squared, "Forgive me the deceit. It's not tea time, but I wanted to drag you out of your room."  
  
Liara's insides squirmed, hope blooming in her chest, and she said with forced calm, "Why would you do that?"  
  
Sam put a hand on the tight fabric of the jacket on her hip and leaned in, brushing her lips against Liara's. It was not quite a kiss, but close enough to make goose bumps pop up on Liara's skin.  Samantha whispered against her lips, "I'm afraid I got tired of waiting on you to make the first move."  
  
Then she leaned back in, kissing Liara desperately and almost possessively. Liara tilted her head and kissed back. She had dreamt of this moment, but, being inexperienced, her dreams had not lived up to the ecstasy of it. Sam’s lips were smooth and soft against her own, and their breath mingled in an intoxicating way, making Liara’s head spin.  
  
When she kiss broke she was out of breath, but managed to say, "I am quite glad you did."  
  
She then decided that she would be bold for once. She took Sam's hand, drawing her towards her cabin door.  Samantha resisted and said, "I want nothing more than to follow you, but I want to... Look, I really like you, Liara, and I don't want to lose you by moving too fast.  If you're just looking for something... casual, tell me now."  
  
"Oh, no. Definitely not! I like you as well, Sam.”

There was still hesitance in the specialist’s look, and Liara knew she had to do something to make it vanish. She pulled the woman closer with the hand linked to her own. She leaned in, her mind swirling as the smell of Samantha hit her again. Their lips met with the same hunger they had before, and Liara reinforced her show of desire with a hand on the small of Samantha’s back. The warmth of her skin on Liara’s gloved hand was a welcome surprise. She pulled away from the kiss reluctantly.

“I like you very much. I'm just tired of going slow. In fact, you may find it hard to get rid of me after you’ve let me in. I’ve become quite attached to you. Is that acceptable to you?"  
  
There was an animalistic quality to Samantha’s grin that made Liara’s mouth water.  She said, "That is very acceptable to me." 

Then she allowed herself to be drawn into the lair of the Shadow Broker.


End file.
